


With Courage

by StarryNox



Series: FE Femslash Week 2016 [7]
Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: F/F, au where neither of them die lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-13 01:58:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7957918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarryNox/pseuds/StarryNox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I see.” Voice cracks. “I hate to say it, but….that sounds like something Her Grace would do.” Maribelle only smiles sadly in response.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With Courage

Phila is falling, falling, _falling_ , the screams of her knight sisters and their mounts filling her ears, and as she gazes upon Emmeryn, still stranded, so far away yet so close, she whispers her apologies into the wind. With one last smile, one she isn’t sure her liege and love will see, she closes her eyes. 

 

Death awaits her when she hits the ground—if not from impact, then from a volley of arrows from those undead creatures summoned to steal triumph from their grasp. She knows this, and there’s a strange sort of peace that comes with this knowledge.

 

She will meet her death with courage, and nothing less.

 

 

 

Except, she _doesn’t_ die. She awakes days later in a makeshift medic bay in a wing of a Feroxi fortress, the Lady Maribelle at her side. Maribelle’s eyes are closed in concentration, the glow of her staff bright enough to make Phila squint. 

 

“What…happened?” Voice comes out as a croak, and it’s only then that she realizes how dry her throat is. But Maribelle freezes, concentration broken. The light dims. 

 

“Oh, thank heavens you’ve woken.” A weak smile from the young girl—too young to see the ravages of war, Phila thinks, but she’s grateful that the troubadour is here. “Ruya ordered us to use rescue staves to try and save whom we could. Sadly…we weren’t able to reach most of your sisters, and those that we did…” A shake of her head. “Their injuries were too severe.” _they didn’t make it_. Phila doesn’t need to hear the words to know. She closes her eyes once again.

 

“And Her Grace?” She’s almost afraid to ask.

 

“She…” Maribelle’s voice hitches. “She sacrificed herself, so that Milord Chrom wouldn’t be forced to choose between her and Ylisse.” Phila chokes, the closest to a sob that she’ll allow in the presence of the healer.

 

“I see.” Voice cracks. “I hate to say it, but….that sounds like something Her Grace would do.” Maribelle only smiles sadly in response. 

 

 

 

She shan’t fly again. That is a truth just as bitter as Her Grace’s passing. She is lucky to be alive, but Est, her loyal steed, lies in the desert sands, and the healers all agree that she’ll be lucky to walk again. A dreary prognosis, but that doesn’t stop them from casting healing magic into legs Phila must move by hand, and a wheeled chair is cobbled together from spare parts ’til they can find a proper one in a trading city. 

 

Phila almost wishes she lay with her sisters. _Almost_.

 

 

 

Phila has never considered herself a particularly vindictive woman, but her lips curl into a grim semblance of a smile as Chrom’s Shepherds return, announcing Gangrel slain and the war over. She pushes herself to the new regent’s side, finally voicing a question she’s been afraid to ask for so long. 

 

“What will become of me, now that the war is over?” 

 

“There will always be a place for you in Castle Ylisstol.” Chrom no longer seems like the boy who ran through the corridors to bring his elder sister fistfuls of flowers—there’s now a heaviness in his eyes that Phila knows Emmeryn would’ve been sad to see. “Truth be told…I could use some familiar faces, as we rebuild Ylisse. You’ve served as Emm’s advisor as well as her guard for quite some time—I’d be honored, if you would continue with what you can. Of course, it’s entirely up to you. If you wish to settle down somewhere in the countryside, I’m happy to make arrangements for that, too.” Phila shakes her head. 

 

“That won’t be necessary, milord. If I can be of service to you, then I will stay.” He offers a wane smile before turning his attention towards the other Shepherds. To watch over Prince Chrom is the least she can do for the woman she loved.

 

 

Fingers tremble as she reads hastily-scrawled words, delivered by a courier who appears to have flown as fast as they possibly could. A hand pressed against her lips, tears threatening to fall as she reads three simple words. 

 

_Emmeryn is alive_.

 

 

 

Emmeryn is delivered back to Castle Ylisstol, the battlefield judged too dangerous a place for one still reeling from her fall years ago. Phila feels she has seen a ghost. Emmeryn is radiant as ever, yet she remembers nothing. Words come out between halted pauses, and Phila doesn’t think she’s seen frustration upon Emmeryn’s features as often as she does now. 

 

But slowly, surely, Emmeryn grows stronger, her words beginning to flow with some semblance of smoothness, and Phila finds that though the former Exalt might not remember what they had, or even who they are, the blonde is willing to push Phila’s chair through the gardens, making stilted conversation that makes Phila’s heart ache. 

 

But it’s all worth it, when, one day, Emmeryn smiles at Phila the way she used to. 

 

“I’m glad…that you’re here.” 

 

“I’m glad _you’re_ here, too.” And Phila knows—it doesn’t matter if she can no longer be Emmeryn’s knight, and it doesn’t matter that Emmeryn’s memories of their past are fractured. They’re building new lives for themselves—new lives that’ll intertwine for the rest of their days. And that, Phila thinks, is enough.


End file.
